The ground floor is undergoing renovation in 2019.

Founded in 1851 The New York and Mississippi Valley Printing Telegraph Company immediately began gobbling up other financial services and communications firms.  When it laid plans to extend telegraphic wires from the East to the West Coast, it changed its name to the Western Union Telegraph Company in 1856.  It completed the first transcontinental telegraph line--the wires fabricated in iron--on October 24, 1861.   Two days later the Government ceased operation of the Pony Express service.  Individual users no doubt thought hard before using the cutting edge technology, though.  Sending a telegram coast-to-coast could coast as much as $20--about $575 today.

The Western Union Telegraph Company continued its aggressive policy of acquiring competitive firms and by 1884 it had absorbed 500 telegraph companies nationwide.

Western Union was also zealously building in New York City.  In addition to its massive headquarters building at No. 145 Broadway, designed by George B. Post, there were more than 130 branch buildings throughout the city.  Two of them were completed in 1884--one on Broad Street and the other at the southwest corner of Fifth Avenue and West 23rd Street.  

Completed in 1873, The Western Union headquarters sat downtown at Broadway and Dey Street.  Real Estate Record & Builders' Guide, June 25, 1898 (copyright expired)

The uptown building, with the addresses of No. 186 Fifth Avenue and No. 10 West 23rd Street, was designed by Henry J. Hardenbergh, who had just recently designed the Dakota Apartments on Central Park West.  

Hardenbergh turned to the currently popular Queen Anne style for the Western Union Telegraph Company building.  Seven stories high, including the peaked roof punctured by story-high dormers, it was faced in red brick and trimmed in brownstone and terra cotta.  Hardenberg's treatment of the two-story base was highly unusual.  Its highly-unusual Fifth Avenue elevation included a protruding show window nestled within slightly recessed storefront, and a metal-framed oriel within a gaping arch on the second floor.  Two-story arches along 23rd Street were separated by brick-and-stone piers.

Valentine's Manual of New York City (copyright expired)

Hardenberg embellished what was other a somewhat reserved structure with elaborate terra cotta and stone decorations.  Elaborate panels decorated the third and sixth floor piers, terra cotta Queen Anne-style motifs adorned the frieze below the cornice and filled the pediments of the dormers.  Most striking was the panel above the 23rd Street entrance.  Here an intricate panel announced The Western Union Co. and two profiles representing the East and West Coasts were connected by a telegraph cable.

Electricity sparks from the twisted telegraph cable connecting the East to the West, depicted by a Native American.

A creative innovation was included in the 23rd Street building.  On February 20, 1883 The Sun reported that it would be connected to the Broadway headquarters by pneumatic tubes.  "Within six months the pneumatic tubes are to be laid between the new up-town headquarters and the main offices at Dey street."  Their purpose was to "carry a large batch of dispatched.  One tube will be used for distributing and one for collecting messages."  Messages could cover the two-mile distance within two minutes.

Hardenberg included delicate, subtle Aesthetic Movement decorations like the sprouting plants carved into the second floor arch.

The ground floor space became home to the branch offices of the New York Herald newspaper.  The second floor housed the National Wood Mfg. Co., makers of parquet flooring and other architectural woodwork.   Offices in the upper floors filled with a stunning number of architectural firms.

photo by Irving Underhill from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York

The several architects were, most likely, attracted by the fact that the Architectural League installed its headquarters in the building.  It was here that the League's highly-anticipated annual exhibitions were staged.  On December 15, 1887, for instance, the New-York Tribune reported "At the Architectural League's rooms, No. 10 West Twenty-third-st., there was an exhibition yesterday of the forty-four entries for gold and silver medals to be exhibited at the League's annual exhibition, to be opened on December 19."

Not only did Henry J. Hardenbergh move his offices into the building which he had designed, but so did Berg & Clark, Walter C. Hunting, Charles L. Eidlitz, A. C. Jacobsen, William E. Young and Charles B. Gillespie. 

Th Crown Perfumery Co. was a much different type of tenant.   The stench of horse dung and other unpleasant odors on city streets, especially in hot months, prompted refined ladies to carry pierced silver vinaigrettes that held perfume-soaked pumice stones or smelling salts.   The Crown Perfumery Co. melded the two with its perfumed pocket salts.

The American University Magazine, May 1897 (copyright expired)

Elegant glass containers were sold within kid leather "purses."  The company's 1897 advertisements noted that their wholesale offices could be accessed by a "private elevator at 5th Ave."  

In 1901 Seth Low was elected Mayor of New York on the newly-formed Fusion ticket, defeating the Tammany Hall candidate.  He immediately launched a hiring campaign to replace the civil servants of the former corrupt administration.

On November 9 The Evening World reported "Already the Army of Fusion is busy seeking jobs for the men who worked hard for the success of the ticket.  Mayor-elect Seth Low has rented an entire floor at No. 10 West Twenty-third street...where his secretary, John C. Clarke, will open 'application headquarters' on Monday morning."

In the first years of the 20th century the publishing firm Revell Company called the building home, as did offices of The Roovers Manufacturing Co., machinery makers.



In May 1905 the architectural firm of John B. Snook's Sons remodeled the ground floor storefronts.  The renovations would last only seven years.  When the upscale Chicago-based silver manufacturer Lebolt & Company took the first and second floors in 1912 the show windows were updated by architect J. P. Whiskeman.  His plans, filed on August 16, estimated the cost at $2,000, or just over $52,000 today.

Lebolt & Co.'s showroom included astonishing light fixtures.  photo via chicagosilver.com

The upscale silver firm moved in just as the shopping district of the Ladies' Mile was migrating northward.  On June 10, 1916 the Real Estate Record & Builders' Guide commented on the plummeting property values in the Fifth Avenue and 23rd Street district.  "The building at 186 Fifth avenue, southwest corner of 23d street assessed at $620,000 in 1908, stands now at the assessed value of $220,000."  The store nevertheless remained at least through 1918.

Lebolt & Co. installed a three-faced corner clock above the ground floor.  J. P. Whiskeman's new storefronts can be seen in this 1914 detail.  from the collection of the New-York Historical Society

In 1919 the building became national headquarters for the Delta Upsilon fraternity.  It published its Delta Upsilon Quarterly here for several years.

The Boy Rangers of America, a precursor of the Boy Scouts of America's cub scouts program, was organized in 1913.  By 1923 its national headquarters was at No. 10 West 23rd Street.  Open to boys from 8 to 12 years old, it described itself in an advertisement that year as "An Indian Lore Organization" and said it offered a "most fascinating and developing program."  The organization would remain here at least through 1938.

As the neighborhood continued to change, so did the tenant list of No. 186 Fifth Avenue.  In 1927 the headquarters of the Lord's Day Alliance of the United States was here, a group determined to "make the modern Sunday conform with the old-time Sabbath," according to The Evening Post.

And when a boy scout named Peter Briglin wrote to Boys' Life magazine in December 1936 asking "Where can I get white quills, or duck feathers suitable for making a headdress?" the editor directed him to "Plume Sales & Trade Co., 10 West 23rd Street."

Other tenants throughout the 20th century included the Allied Brief Case Company in the 1950's and '60's; and Shake Records, The Viking Press, and the Pecos Valley Spice Company in the 1980's.



In 1993 the ground floor space that had once exhibited costly sterling silver bowls, trays and tea sets became home to Isaac Mor's Multi-Security Locksmith shop.  But eleven years later the Ladies' Mile neighborhood was being rediscovered by massive retailers like Bed, Bath and Beyond, Staples, and--most threatening to Mor--Home Depot.  He was understandably nervous, telling The New York Times journalist Glenn Collins in September 2004 "This will affect the whole neighborhood.  A lot of stores around here will go out of business."

Mor was right.  Mom-and-pop operations were nudged out by rising rents as trendy cafes and shops moved in alongside the behemoth retailers in what was now called the Flatiron District.   On February 25, 2007 The Times reported "five floor-through condos are planned" for No. 186 Fifth Avenue, and Leah Goldfarb, its sales director, said that two had already been sold.

In 2018 Bank of America leased the ground floor and part of the second as a full-service branch.  Plans were approved to redesign the ground floor storefronts at the time.

A rendering of the proposed storefronts was released in 2018 by Winick Realty Group.  via commercialobserver.com

Henry Hardenberg's striking Queen Anne style building is greatly overshadowed by the magnificent attention-grabbing Flatiron Building directly across the street.  It nevertheless deserves a pause to take in those glorious panels and overall design.

photographs by the author

Above the commercial space the domestic appearance of the vintage house survives.

Union Square was nearing completion in 1841.  A large fountain formed the centerpiece of the oval park girded, which was girded by a handsome cast iron fence.  Around the park upscale brick and brownstone homes were rising.

That year Dr. Benjamin B. and Nancy S. Edwards completed construction of their new home just steps to the north on Broadway.  The brick-faced house was an ample 25-feet wide and three stories tall.

Within two years of moving into the new home, Dr. Edwards died.  Remarkably, it was not a male lawyer, but Nancy herself, who oversaw the administration of his estate in December 1843.

The wealthy widow continued to live on in No. 859 Broadway.  It would be decades before commerce caught up to the Union Square neighborhood, and Nancy's house sat among some of the finest residences in Manhattan.  The parlor levels of many Italianate-style homes were graced with cast iron balconies.  It was a detail overlooked in No. 859; but Nancy corrected that in 1846 when she petitioned the Board of Aldermen "to be allowed to erect a balcony in front of her house."

In 1856 Nancy S. Edwards moved to No. 68 West 29th Street.  She leased No. 859, furnished, to William Mitchell and his wife.  Mitchell was the manager of the Olympic Theatre.  Within only a matter of weeks after moving in, on May 12, 1856, the 57-year-old died.  His funeral was held in the house the following afternoon.

Nancy Edwards apparently let Mitchell's widow out of the lease.  She placed an advertisement in The New York Herald on May 31 offering the furnished house for sale or lease, noting it was "delightfully located, looking into the park; bath room, gas, &c."

Nearly a decade before the Union Square neighborhood would see real encroachment of commercial interests, Dr. J. Pearson opened his dental office in the house.  His ad on November 12, 1861 read:

Artificial Bone Filling for Decayed teeth--Inserted while soft, and giving no pain.  Aching teeth or mere shells can be filled and preserved, by the discoverer, J. Pearson, M. D., rooms 859 Broadway, west side, one door above Seventeenth street.  N. B.--Beware of trashy imitations of cheap operators.

In the first years following the end of the Civil War the tide of commerce arrived at Union Square and Broadway.  One-by-one the high-end residences were converted for accommodate shops or razed to make room for commercial buildings.  In 1869 No. 859 received a new storefront and, possibly at this time, an updated cornice.

The businesses that invaded the neighborhood were upscale--dressmakers, jewelers, piano makers and such--which catered to the carriage trade.  No. 859 was now home to Stevens & Co. jewelers.  On December 20, 1872 The New York Times commented on the firm's holiday items.

Stevens & Co., No. 859 Broadway, are offering a choice selection of diamonds, pearls, rubies, sapphires, and stone cameos, mounted in unique designs.  These goods have been prepared expressly for the holiday season, and some excellent articles, suitable for presents, may be selected from them.

One of the firm's executives lost his black Russian leather pocketbook on February 4, 1874.  His panicked ad described it as having "gilt bindings, containing a sum of money."  He dropped it either on 14th Street or between 14th Street and Broadway, no doubt coming or going from the shop.  The reward, more than $1,000 today, suggests the value of it and its contents.

The jewelry store was taken over by G. & F. Hartje jewelers around 1876.  Like Tiffany & Co. on the lower fringe of the park, it designed and manufactured its pricey baubles.

The store advertised in Important Events of the Century in 1876 (copyright expired)

Among the skilled employees of G. & F. Hartje in 1882 was 29-year old William N. Evans.  The social position of the young man's family was reflected in his membership in the Seventh Regiment--nicknamed the "Blue Stocking Regiment" for decades because of the wealthy men who made up its ranks.  He lived on West 24th Street, just steps off Fifth Avenue.

Evans left the shop on Friday July 14 and went to his home, where committed suicide.  The New York Times reported he died "while suffering from mental depression, by shooting himself through the head with a revolver."  As was often the case in affluent families, who avoided the taint of suicide, the police were not notified.  Instead the coroner was summoned to the house "privately."

In 1879 Edward A. Newell was leasing the building and had moved his haberdashery into the ground level.  Founded in 1863, E. A. Newell dealt in "shirts, underwear, neck-wear, half-hose, handkerchiefs, jewelry, and men's furnishing goods."  Customers of E. A. Newell would also find accessories here, like gloves, umbrellas and canes.

Newell increased the commercial space in 1884 by hiring architect Charles E. Hadden to raise the rear section two stories.  That year New York's Great Industries said E. A. Newell "here occupies one of the most elegantly fitted and commodious stores on Broadway, and which contains a stock of the finest imported and domestic goods."  The publication referred to his patrons as "the best people, not only in this city, but all over the United States and even in Europe."

The renovated shop upstairs, where G. & F. Hartje had been, was leased to portrait artist Marc Gambier who created his works either in paint, in crayon, or by photography.  New York's Great Industries wrote "Imbued with indomitable energy, and the highest order of talent, Mr. Gambier has been recognized as the leader in his profession, and as an artist, photographer and portrait painter of wide celebrity."  The article noted "On May 1, 1884, he removed to his present central and commodious premises in Broadway, which are elegantly fitted up, and contain on exhibition many striking masterpieces of Mr. Gambier's art."

Like his landlord, Gambier catered only to the carriage trade, giving "close personal attention to the taking of strictly high class portraits."   New York's Great Industries added "many of his magnificent works are to be seen in the homes of our best people."  He devised a clever innovation, called "stamp photos."  He provided clients postage stamp-sized copies of their photos, which could then be affixed to the stationery or envelope, personalizing the correspondence.

Two of Gambier's well-known sitters at the Broadway studio were Dr. George E. Belcher and actress Jennie Lee.

Edward A. Newell was a vehement opponent of Tammany Hall and a supporter of 1884 mayoral candidate William Russell Grace who was running on the reform ticket.   Grace had been nominated by The Citizens' Committee, which The New York Times said on October 23 has already entered upon a most active campaign for his behalf.  Newell strengthened his support by donating the upper floor of his building for the organization's use.  "Headquarters, lighted, warmed, and furnished, have been given the committee at No. 859 Broadway by a prominent business man interested in the cause of honest municipal Government," advised the newspaper.   The upstairs rooms were next used as the headquarters for candidate Hugh John Grant, who followed Grace as mayor.

The Edwards estate still owned the property in 1886 when updates were made to the building, amounting to about $27,000 today.

The Columbia Spectator, March 16, 1888 (copyright expired)

Newell was nearly duped in February 1888.  A young man, calling himself Harry Beecher, captain of the Yale football team and grandson of Henry Ward Beecher, entered the store, saying he had already received estimates from several firms to "rig out the team in silk quarter sleeve undershirts and stockings."  He asked the same of Newell.

Samples were produced and Newell set the price for 11 sets at $400.  The amount sounded good to Beecher, but he paused, saying his teammates might not be as pleased.  The Sun reported "He ordered two sets sent to the Windsor Hotel to be inspected.  The two sets were done up, but he appeared so anxious to carry the bundles himself that Mr. Newell half suspected that something was wrong."  Instead, Newell sent the packages by his delivery wagon, including instructions for the hotel clerk.

Under the watchful eye of the clerk, Beecher could not manage to get the packages out of the hotel.  On Tuesday they were returned to E. A. Newell & Co. along with a card saying that "no such person as Harry Beecher was at the hotel."  The Sun noted "The spurious Beecher has tried the same game unsuccessfully at McCreery's.  The police are looking for him.  He has curly hair and a flat nose."

Eight years earlier, on January 9, 1880, Edward Newell had discovered that a clerk, Charles Francis Gilman, had systematically stolen $2,300 in cash from the store.  It was a significant amount, equal to nearly $57,000 today.  Confronted with the evidence, Gilman confessed and Newell, not wishing to ruin the man's reputation by prosecuting him, kept him on with the promise of repayment.

Gilman withdrew $1,100 from his bank, his entire savings, and gave it to his employer, along with his watch, chain, and cuff buttons.  He then signed a promissory note for the outstanding $1,200.  The New York Times reported "After these formalities had been concluded employer and clerk went into a back room and prayed together."

It seemed Gilman was back on the right path.  In February 1881 he paid $490 towards the balance.  But in 1885 he was caught stealing once again.  This time Newell prosecuted.  Gilman lost his job despite the jury's acquitting him.  Now, in November 1889 Newell took him back to court, for payment of the original outstanding debt.  But in a surprising twist it was Edward Newell who found himself in the greater trouble.

According to The Times on November 27 Gilman told the court "that he ever stole anything from Newell, but says that the money and note were forced from him under threats of a criminal prosecution, and that he gave them because his mother had shortly before had an apoplectic attack, and he was afraid that the shock of his prosecution would kill her."

He then accused Newell of making him do jury duty for him, identifying himself as his employer to the courts.  To strengthen the claim, W. W. Underhill, president of the United States Fire Insurance Company, testified that he had service with Gilman, who used the name of Newell, on a jury in 1873.  Court records were produced on which the name E. A. Newell appeared on the jury list.  The Times opined "This fact may involved disagreeable consequences for somebody."

Happily for Newell, he escaped serious legal problems; possibly because of his active involvement with Society for the Prevention of Crime.  Founded in 1878, it helped bring down Tammany Hall.  By the spring of 1891 Newell was its president; and was its secretary the following year.

E. A. Newell left No. 859 before 1895.  The store spaces were now shared by Clarke Co., manufacturing jewelers; and Amasa Lyon & Co., makers and dealers in umbrellas, walking sticks and parasols.  The former political rooms were now used by Weinman & Co. for manufacturing ladies' and children's cloaks and suits. 

The products made and sold by Amasa Lyon & Co. were top of the line.  King's Handbook of New York said "A 'Lyon' umbrella is indicative of taste, durability and reliability as to shape and color."  Founded in 1877 by Amasa Lyon, it decorated its fashionable products with handles of gold, silver, ivory, horn and other costly materials.

Like Edward Newell, Lyon had a problems with a dishonest employee.  But unlike his predecessor, his was at home.  On December 20, 1895 The Clothiers' and Haberdashers' Weekly entitled an article "A Dishonest Servant Arrested" and reported "Last Saturday Aurelia Delehanty, a servant employed by Amasa Lyon, of Amasa Lyon & Co., umbrella manufacturers, of 859 Broadway, New York, was arrested on a charge of stealing from her employer clothing and jewelry valued at several hundred dollars."

Shortly after Aurelia was hired, the Lyons noticed "petty thefts."  They reported them to police who staked out the house.  "Detectives observe the servant's brother enter Mr. Lyon's house without a package and subsequently leave with a large bundle, which was discovered to contain many of the articles which had been stolen."  Both siblings were imprisoned.

The "sacrificial price" of this Clarke Co. ruby and diamond cocktail ring in 1874 would be equal to about $1,670 today. The Sun, December 2, 1894 (copyright expired)

An advertisement in the New-York Tribune on October 21, 1894 gave a hint at the scale of Clarke Co.'s operation.  Announcing a sale of sorts, it promised "we are selling our enormous stock of the finest grades of Diamonds and other precious stones, mounted in the most unique and elegant designs, at prices much lower than elsewhere," it boasted.  "You will also find our Colossal Stock of Gold and Silver Watches, find Gold Jewelry and Silver Novelties of the newest and choicest designs."

Other upscale jewelers may have been surprised with Clarke & Co. suddenly shut its doors in the winter of 1897.  Auctioneer John H. French announced he would sell the contents of the store "commencing Monday, Jan. 18th, and continuing daily."  The notice listed "fine Jewels mounted with diamonds and other precious stones, Gold and Silver Watches, Rich Jewelry, silver novelties, &c."

For a few years Errico Brothers, run by Joseph A. and Vincent A. Errico, had operated a high-class gallery almost directly across the street at No. 862 Broadway.  The pair sold imported Italian statuary, carved furniture, glassware and the like.  A few months after the Clarke auction they moved into No. 859 in 1897; but not before the Edwards estate hired architect James S. Maher to remodel the storefront for them.

In December that year an advertisement in the New-York Tribune boasted that Errio Brothers "are now showing Italy's grandest productions in Marble Statuary, Glassware, Falance, Carved Furniture, etc...Lovers of art are invited to inspect our grand stock."

Indicative of the artistic offerings of Errico Brothers was Fabio Fabbi's painting The Slave Market.  Getting the artist's name wrong, The New York Times reported on November 3, 1900 "A painting by F. Fabbio of Florence, entitled 'The Slave Market,' has been and remains on exhibition at the gallery of Errico Brothers, 859 Broadway.  The canvas is a large and interesting example of the modern florid Italian school, painted with much technical cleverness, fresh and cool in color, and well composed and drawn."

The newspaper'' critic, however, predicted that the painting was only a passing fad.  "It is really, however, only a tour de force and has no abiding art value."  (That critic would be abashed to discover that the painting sold at Doyle auction galleries in 2006 for $45,000.)

The Slave Market featured a shockingly bare-breasted woman for 1900.  Image via doyle.com

After having been in business since 1859, Errico Brothers closed in 1907.  They auctioned off their entire store March.

The upper floor became home to J. M. Chanut & Cie, manufacturers and importers of expensive gloves.  Silk or leather gloves were a mainstay in a lady's wardrobe--different gloves being necessary for different costumes or times of the day.  There were gloves for walking, evening gloves, gloves for afternoon teas or rides, summer gloves, and so on.

The sale price of the French kid gloves would be equal to about $300 today.  New-York Tribune, December 20, 1908 (copyright expired)

The Edwards estate updated the storefront again in May 1910.  Architect L. Giller replaced the interior staircase at the same time.  The total project cost would equal about $17,300 today.  The property was described at the time by the Department of Buildings as a "brick and stone store and showrooms."

While J. M. Chanut & Co. peddled its high-end gloves upstairs, the ground floor store--where once only wealthy gentlemen shopped for accessories--was a tobacco shop run by the Unique Cigar Co.  The cigar store would remain in the space for years.

J. M. Chanut & Co. faced a problem when war broke out in Europe.  Its three factories were in France.  So in 1917 it partnered with The Gloversville Silk Mills, in Gloversville, New York to manufacture its gloves.  That firm opened its New York office in No. 859 as well.

A Chanut & Co. advertisement in The Glovers Review in February 1919 boasted "In spite of the many complications incidental to manufacturing in France under war conditions, our sales for 1918 were the largest in our history."  On the same page The Gloversville Silk Mills assured that its gloves were "produced from the choicest qualities of Japanese Silk.  Finished in our own dye house with absolutely pure dyes."

But the shops where well-heeled shoppers who purchased items like expensive silk and kid leather gloves were already abandoning Union Square.  Many of the former stores became small manufacturing shops.  Colt-Cromwell Co., Inc., makers of "leggings and overgaiters" moved into No. 859 by 1921.

The 1960's and '70's saw the Union Square neighborhood greatly decline.  The park itself became dangerous and overgrown as the city teetered on the edge of bankruptcy.  Many of the old storefronts were shuttered and abandoned for years.  Around 1997, as the neighborhood again turned around, No. 859 became home to Union Square Drugs.  The pharmacy would be a fixture here for years.

In 2004 the two upper floors were converted to apartments (one per floor).   The Verizon store which occupies the storefront gives little hint of the building's more than 175 year history.  But looking up, the passerby sees the windows from which Nancy S. Edwards once looked out onto Broadway and fashionable Union Square.

photograph by the author

In 1850 William Johnson began construction of six brick-faced homes on the east side of Sixth Avenue, between 20th and 21st Streets.  At 20-feet wide the four-story homes were intended for well-to-do families decades before the avenue would become a major shopping thoroughfare.

No. 334 in the middle of the row, became home to Catharine Danforth.  She remained until early in 1862 when she moved to No. 57 West 24th Street.  On March 18 that year an advertisement in The New York Herald offered "To Let--The house 334 Sixth Avenue, near Dr. Muhlenberg's church, in complete order; gas fixtures, bath, range &c; suitable for a physician."

It was not a physician who leased the house, but the New-York Ladies' Educational Union.  With civil war raging in the south, they rented the property for their Institution for the Children of Deceased or Disabled Soldiers in the house.

On June 7 The New York Times described the institution's goals in dramatic Victorian prose:

First, that of the care-worn, war-made widow, who is thankful to leave her little one under the kind auspices of Mr. and Mrs. Davis, the Superintendents, while she seeks perhaps for the first time a day's employment.  Again, it is a refuge for the young girl of intelligence and capacity, who would fain accept instruction to fit her to combat unwonted trials in a commercial sphere; and a home for the little girls and boys, some of whom wear garments of mourning that should be looked reverently upon by every loyal American, especially those who in tranquility of luxurious homes, entertain but faint visions of the battlefield.

The article described the house as being "large, and will require much to make it the home-place that is intended."  To fund the furnishing and renovations, the New-York Ladies' Education Union held week-long fairs in places like the Cooper Institute.  And as Thanksgiving approached, a "Thanksgiving Donation Visit" was advertised.  On the holiday the doors were opened to visitors from 3:00 to 8:00.

A few weeks earlier Rev. Stephen H. Tyng, rector of the fashionable St. George's Church on Stuyvesant Square, had heard unflattering rumors about the institution.  On November 17 he took out an ad that said in part "Having been informed that certain statements unfavorable to the character of the 'Institution for the Benefit of the Children of Deceased or Disabled Soldiers'...have been presented to the press...I desire personally to certify that this institution has been established by ladies of the most indubitable excellence of character and dignity of social position."

Soon after the end of the war the Institution was dissolved.  In 1869 owner Mary McKenna converted the first and second story to storefronts.  The shop space was leased to ice cream manufacturer M. Rowan & Co. while the upper floors became home to another institution, the Shelter for Respectable Girls.  It was run by the Sisterhood of the Holy Communion, connected with the Church of the Holy Communion on the corner.

On February 23 1873 The New York Herald noted that "during the past two years it has received and provided with situations over five hundred homeless, but respectable women.  The majority of these were Christian women, many of them communicants in various Christian churches, some of them persons reduced from affluence to poverty, and cast, from no fault of their own, without a friend upon the world."  The Shelter for Respectable Girls remained at least through 1876.

Three of the original row, including 668, retain much of their domestic appearance.

In April 1875 Rowan & Co. renewed its lease.   By now Sixth Avenue was transforming into a major shopping district as small buildings from the 1840's and '50's were demolished to be replaced by lavish emporiums.  It had proved to be a perfect location for an "ice cream saloon."

Michael Rowan had come from his native Ireland in 1851 and established his ice cream business in 1866.  He manufactured his ice cream in the cellar.  The firm supplied bulk treats to restaurants and hotels and for large events like excursions.  The "saloon" (a term later changed to the more benign "ice cream parlor"), was a favorite stopping point for the women shopping along Sixth Avenue.

Sales were brisk on the hot Saturday afternoon of August 26, so when the shop was broken into that night the safe was full.  On August 31 The New York Times reported "The ice-cream establishment of Messrs. Cowan [sic] & Co., at No. 334 Sixth avenue, was entered by burglars on Sunday morning.  They broke open a small safe and carried off the contents of the money-box, consisting of $1,500 in cash and a check on the Bank of the Metropolis for $14.40."  The take would equal about $35,700 today.

Rowan, his wife Theresa, and their sons, Joseph Charles, Francis (known as Frank), Ambrose, Marten and Edmond, lived above their other ice cream shop at No. 742 Sixth Avenue at the time of the break-in.

In the 1878 Journal of the Fair for the New St. Patrick's Cathedral, Rowan advertised his ice cream as "The only old fashioned cheap hand made Ice Cream in the city."  (The term "cheap" would be substituted with "affordable" today.)  Ice cream was priced at $1 per gallon and "French & Italian Creams" at 60 cents per quart.  A gallon would cost $25.50 today.  The ad noted "Liberal discount to Church Festivals, etc."

A separate article in the Journal promised "Lovers of ice-cream in its purity, charlottes that are delicious, French and Italian creams surpassing any house in the city in quality, will find at M. Rowan's establishments, 334 Sixth avenue...and 742 Sixth avenue...everything to suit the most fastidious taste."

Joseph Charles apparently had no interest in going into his family's business.  In 1884 he enrolled in Columbia College as a law student.  By now the Rowans had given up the other store and moved into the upper stories of No. 334.

In 1888 Illustrated New York gushed about the store saying "Few among the many inviting and excellent establishments devoted to the manufacture and sale of ice-cream and kindred toothsome products on Sixth Avenue have secured a more enduring hold on popular favor than the well-known and flourishing ice-cream depot and refreshment parlor of Mr. Rowan."

The article described the 20- by 70-foot saloon as "neatly appointed and well kept"  It added "Five polite and efficient assistants are employed while a delivery wagon is in steady service."

In 1897 the estate of Mary McKenna enlarged the store space for Rowan.  It hired architect P. F. Brogan to design an extension to the rear, costing $3,500.  The increased business also necessitated more than the single delivery wagon mentioned in 1888.  On July 10, 1900 the Confectioners' and Bakers' Gazette noted "many wagons [are] kept going constantly to supply the demand."

Above the second story show window the name M. Rowan is announced in cast iron.

The McKenna estate brought P. F. Brogan back in January 1901 to design an new storefront.  Michael Rowan died around 1907.  The business was continued under Frank, Ambrose and Edmond.  While Joseph Charles continued to live above the store at least through 1912, he was not involved in the business, having followed his legal career.

By the end of World War I the retail stores had abandoned Sixth Avenue, moving north to Fifth Avenue and Herald Square.  Nevertheless, the Rowans stubbornly stayed on.  On August 26, 1919 The Sun reported that Edmond Rowan had renewed the lease on the building for another ten years.

The enlarged windows of the 1920 renovation can be seen in this May 9, 1940 photo.  from the collection of the New York Public Library

The ice cream parlor remained downstairs, but the upper floors were converted for business by architects Gronenberg & Leuchtag in 1920.  At the time the windows of the two top floor were enlarged.  Simon Waist & Dress Co. moved in that year, headed by Michael Simon.

In 1925 Sixth Avenue was renumbered and No. 334 became No. 668.  At the end of Edmond Rowan's lease the ice cream store was gone, ending its 60-year history in the space.

Passersby could have no clue that the top story windows are not historic.

The Sixth Avenue neighborhood suffered decline and neglect for decades, only to be rediscovered as "The Ladies' Mile."  The massive retail emporiums, many of which had stood essentially vacant, were repurposed as residential and commercial buildings.  A surprising renovation of No. 668 restored the residential-style windows on the upper floors, complete with pressed metal cornices matching the historic examples next door.

photographs by the author

New York City residents and doctors were no strangers to yellow fever in 1793.  The most recent outbreak of the disease, two years earlier, had claimed 100 lives.  Now Philadelphia suffered an epidemic that would grow to terrifying proportions.  Five-thousand people, one-tenth of that city's population, would succumb.

New York went on the defensive, refusing ships from Philadelphia into its harbor and placing 24-hour watchmen along the riverfront on guard against fugitives.  But the insidious disease found its way in anyway.  The first death came in July 1795.   Within about a one-week period in August twenty-one people died.

Those who could afford to leave the city did so, moving the fresh air of remote hamlets like Greenwich Village.  Some businesses moved north, following their patrons, or opened what were considered temporary branch offices.   Realizing that if the epidemic was not gotten under control it would have to move, in 1806 the Manhattan Bank Company purchased a rural plot of land, one acre square, from Edward Williams.   Facing Broadway at the southeast corner of what would become 17th Street, the land would remain vacant for decades.

By the 1830's the expansion of the city was nearing the area.  Another banker, Samuel Ruggles, spearheaded the creation of Union Square in 1832,  to be an exclusive enclave of upscale homes surrounding a tranquil fenced garden with a central fountain.   After the park was completed in 1842 the surrounding lots filled with handsome residences of moneyed families.

The Manhattan Bank Company began construction of four speculative brick-faced homes in 1847.  Completed the following year, the Greek Revival style houses were an ample 25-feet wide and four stories tall.  The southernmost, at what would be renumbered No. 862 about a decade later, slightly angled away from its neighbors, following the curve of Broadway.

It was purchased by Daniel M. Edgar in 1849.  Edgar had married Julia Lorillard nine years earlier, on December 4.  The socially-prestigious couple had six children.  Edgar's substantial wealth was hinted at by his subscription to John J. Audubon's Viviparous Quadrupeds of North America.  On March 11, 1843 the New-York Daily Tribune had remarked "It is to be issued in about thirty numbers, at intervals of two months...Each number will contain five plates, and be sold for ten dollars."  The total outlay in today's dollars would be about $10,300 today.  (When completed the "numbers" were consolidated into three handsomely-bound leather volumes.)

The relentless northward march of commerce pushed the wealthy homeowners away surprisingly soon.  Around 1851 the Edgars were gone and the ground level of their once-elegant home was converted to a drugstore owned by Thomas Merceau.  The upper floors were conducted as a boarding house by Margaret Gombault and Sarah Monfort, two respectable widows.

The women's reputations became somewhat tarnished following the death of a boarder, James Bach on October 31, 1856.  Bach was not only advanced in years--his age was estimated at between 68 and 70 when he died--he was deaf and apparently suffering from dementia.

Following a fall in December 1855, he had been confined to the house.  On April 28, 1856 he executed a will which left his entire estate to his landladies.  Although Bach had no known relatives, the Public Administrator of the City of New York was suspicious of foul play.  He intervened, holding up the settlement of the estate until a hearing took place in March 1857.

The Public Administrator charged the women with "undue influence" and pointed out to the judge that Bach could "neither speak, nor write, nor signify his wishes to such an extent of detail as would seem reasonable."  In addition, he described Bach as suffering from "softening of the brain."

On the other hand, several witness spoke on the women's behalf.  They testified that Bach had been close friends with Mr. Gombault and had promised him on the latter's deathbed that he would see that Margaret was taken care of.  Several witnesses said he had told them that "Mrs. Gombault and Mrs. Monfort should have what he had to leave."  At the end of the case the judge ruled that the execution of the will "was a reasonable act" and the widows were vindicated.

In the first years after the end of the Civil War the Merceau drugstore had become home to Charles Cogneron's saloon.  Although the neighborhood was still upscale and the saloon was no doubt stylish, catering to a refined class of gentlemen, Cogneron continually disregarded the Sunday liquor laws.  The courts had had enough on June 16, 1868 when he appeared once again.  The following day The New York Times reported that his liquor license had been revoked.

The saloon was made over into a restaurant, Daprato & Gati's Eating Place, which remained into the 1870's.  Meanwhile, the second floor was home to the elegant millinery and accessories shop of M. Miles.  In 1871 the business was purchased by Imogene Walton, who renamed it Maison Walton.  Here well-to-do women shopped for the latest in European accessories.

Mme. Walton, as Imogene styled herself, routinely sailed to London and Paris to shop for the latest fashions.  Her advertisements stressed that her latest offerings were au courant.  On June 11 1871 she advertised "have just received a choice and recherche assortment of English Round Hats, imported expressly for the races; among them are copies of hats worn at the late Derby, received from Brown, 13 and 14 New Bond street, London."

Victorian women were expected to dress in black for a year following the deaths of a near relative, such as a father or husband.  "Widows' weeds" could nevertheless be modish and Imogene Walton offered "a choice selection of Mourning Suits received from leading houses" of Europe.

The New York Herald described the stock at Maison Walton on September 29, 1875, saying the display of fall fashions "was as complex as even the most variable feminine mind.  The head gear of the ladies being the principal question among the fair ones at present, a few specimens of the leading styles...will be of interest."

On February 14, 1880 an unusual paragraph appeared in The New York Times:

I bear testimony unsolicited to the wonderful curative powers of the Holman liver pad treatment.  Suffered years with liver complaint, pain in right and left side; have not had a good night's rest for the last year.  My little girl was cured from alarming symptoms of headache.  Both well.

Holman's tax stamp and label featured the doctor shockingly shirtless.

Clearing snow in the 1890's was an arduous job requiring an army of workers.  In the background No. 862 sports a massive second-story show window and cast iron storefront.  photo from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York

The repaired building was barely changed in 1909. photograph by George F. Arata from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York

C. E. Riker sold an early cure for snoring.

Photographed in 1935, the top floor windows are now noticeably larger and an unsightly fire escape has been added.  from the collection of the New York Public Library

As early as 1870 Fifth Avenue and Broadway above 14th Street were seeing change as commerce edged northward, prompting wealthy families to leave their brick and brownstone mansions.  Between the two thoroughfares, a livery stable had stood at No. 7 East 19th Street for years.

In 1885 the transition was nearly complete.  Union Square, once an elegant residential enclave, was now a retail center.  On both Fifth Avenue and Broadway were high-end stores--dressmakers, art galleries, and jewelry and piano stores among them.  That year book dealer Robert Carter hired architect Thomas R. Jackson to design a modern store and loft building on the site of the old stable.

Born in England in 1826, Thomas R. Jackson had come to America as a child with his parents.  He had held the position of head draftsman in the office of esteemed architect Richard Upjohn and worked with him on the design of Trinity Church.  Among his well-recognized works by now were the Academy of Music and the Jerome Mansion on Madison Square.

Completed in 1886, Jackson's cast iron fronted building was five stories tall.  Although the relatively new neo-Grec style was often stiffly formal, his personal take gave it a nearly mirthful personality.  Atop the engaged columns that flanked the storefront entrance Jackson playfully placed miniature versions.

Jackson gave his Corinthian capitals a American flair by incorporating ears of corn and scallop shells into their design.

At each of the upper floors he stacked Corinthian pilasters and columns--one standing before the other as if bullying its smaller brother for attention.  Jackson finished the design with an elaborate pediment that imitated a gable.



A year before construction had begun on Carter's speculative structure, William B. Norman was hired by Peter C. Kellogg & Co. as a novice auctioneer.  In reporting on the sale of millionaire Theodore A. Havemeyers horses on June 3, 1884, The Sun mentioned "At 10 o'clock Mr. William B. Norman, a light boy auctioneer recently imported from Baltimore, began the section annual horse sale."

The light boy's success was meteoric and he moved his own auctioneering business into No. 7 East 19th Street.  Norman's clientele was affluent and the items he sold were high-end.  In response, in 1889 he moved to No. 205 Fifth Avenue and renamed his firm the Fifth Avenue Auction Company.  His former space was taken by the Thomas & Wylie Lithographing Company.

Thomas & Wylie Lithographic Co. produced high-quality prints like this poster, possibly marketing an opera production.

Both firms would be involved in unflattering press in 1891 when they appeared in court for back rent.  Both accused the other of being the deadbeat tenant.   No doubt shocking to his moneyed clients, on May 28 The Sun reported "Execution for $3,026 has been issued against William B. Norman, auctioneer...in favor of the Thomas & Wylie Lithographing Company for rent."

Two days later The New York Times advised "William B. Norman says that the Fifth Avenue Auction Company is in no wise involved in the execution for $3,026 for rent, which was issued against him personally."  Norman had carefully worded the disclaimer, not denying guilt but absolving his firm of the debt.

Although its good name was restored, the messy affair may have left a bad taste in the mouth of Thomas & Wylie Lithographic.  The firm moved to West 24th Street within months of the verdict.

On June 19, 1893 Benjamin B. Vanderveer was made a director of the Cassell Publishing Company.  In reporting on the appointment The New York Times called him "a candy manufacturer of 7 East Nineteenth Street."  In fact, he was not a confectioner at all.  He was head of the American Pastry & Manufacturing Co.

The newspaper made up for the error later by editorializing "The American Pastry and Manufacturing Company has for its object, the production of pies...We do not pretend to any personal acquaintance with the modern pie of commerce, but whispers that ascend from the profounder social depths claim for it superiority to all pies except those known as 'made-by-mother.'"

Glowing reviews notwithstanding, Vanderveer would soon have to find another building in which to make his pies.  Directly behind No. 7 East 19th Street was the massive Lord & Taylor department store.   In 1895 Lord & Taylor leased No. 7 and two years later erected a connecting bridge.  The 19th Street building would be used for a decade merely for storage.  In 1915 Lord & Taylor moved uptown along with the other remnants of the Broadway shopping district.

Whether No. 7 simply sat empty for the next seven years is unclear; however in 1922 renovations were made to convert it into showrooms and warehouse space for the Colson Company.  Headed by Frederic W. Colson, it manufactured bicycles, wheelchairs, and tricycles.

When the Ohio-based Fay Manufacturing Company was reorganized as the Worthington Company in 1903 Colson became its principal.  He purchased the firm outright in 1917, changing the name to the Colson Company.   The factory remained in Ohio, and the East 19th Street was used for a store at street level, showroom on the second floor, and warehousing above.

This ad, published the year the firm moved into No. 7, touted its popular Fairy brand tricycle. New-York Tribune, December 3, 1922 (copyright expired)

The Colson Company sold its bicycles from No. 7 for 15 years.  On October 18, 1937 The New York Times announced that Frederick W. Colson had sold the building to Max Gordon "for altering."  Included in the alterations at that time may have been the removal of the decorative pediment.

In 1969 the Bomze Graphics and Jay Bee Photo Supplies took over the building.  Interior renovations, completed in January 1975, resulted in "photographic stores" on the ground floor, with offices, photographic and art studios, and warehouse space above.

Among the initial tenants, other than the owners, was the Norman Snyder Studios, Inc., here at least by 1977.  Here aspiring photographs could take basic and advanced courses.  Snyder also edited The Photograph Catalog here, advertised as "the in-book the entire photo-establishment is talking about."

Bomze Graphics was a go-to store for photographers on a budget.  Among the second-hand equipment available here were "cameras, enlargers, darkroom equipment, lab equipment, lighting, tripods [and] hand-held light meters," according to The New York Times on June 18, 1978.

photo via Done Deals

In the 1990's cybernetic sculptor and kinetic artist Wen-Ying Tsai purchased No. 7.  The Chinese-born dissident established his studio and residence in the building.  He would remain here for two decades until his death in January 2013.  By then Thomas R. Jackson's once striking structure had been seriously abused.


In January 2014 a private investor purchased No. 7 for $12 million for alteration into residential space.  Architect Jeffrey Cole was put to work restoring the facade and recreating the lost elements.  His meticulous transformation resulted in a near recreation of the building as it appeared in 1886.  Inside, above the store, are a total of four apartments, including a penthouse hidden from view by the replaced pediment.

photographs by the author